


Girls Like Her: Nine Moments in the Life of Kit Keller

by yuletide_archivist



Category: A League of Their Own (1992)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Inyron</p>
    </blockquote>





	Girls Like Her: Nine Moments in the Life of Kit Keller

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Inyron

 

 

_"The other boys... always made me feel like I was wrong, you know? Like I was some sort of a weird girl or a strange girl, or not even a girl just `cause I could play. I believed `em, too, but not anymore, you know? I mean, lookit, there's a lot of us... and I think we're all alright."_   


1.

The long train ride from Williamette, Oregon to Fort Collins, Colorado gave Kit an enormous amount of time to think. And even though Mr. Capadino filled every potential silence with another question for Dottie or a story about himself, she was able to sink down in the seat next to her sister unnoticed and let her mind wander. She spent most of the time staring out at the blurred landscape, fantasizing about what it would be like to play ball in a real stadium, in a real uniform, throwing strike after strike for a crowd of cheering thousands. Every now and then her thoughts shifted back from baseball to her sister and to her old life in Williamette that she hoped to escape by becoming the best pitcher the All American Girls' Baseball League had ever seen.

 

 

 

2.

"What are you lookin' at?" The challenge had caught Kit off guard. A petite woman with dark hair and pale skin sucked forcefully on a cigarette and scowled in her direction.

"Yeah, what are you lookin' at?" The woman's plain friend echoed.

"Nothing," Dottie replied before Kit could form a coherent response.

"That's right, nothing," the first woman retorted. Even in a baseball hat and uniform this woman was simultaneously hard and soft, brash and beautiful. They didn't have girls like her back in Williamette.

"Are all these girls gonna be in the league?" Kit asked, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer mass of uniformed girls practicing before her.

"You wish," the woman spat, curling up the right side of her lip before taking another sharp drag on her dwindling cigarette. The truth was, Kit did wish.

 

 

 

3.

The team's house where they stayed during home games was nicer than any of the farmhouses in Oregon. At least that's what Kit thought. And even though she shared her room with Betty Spaghetti, just being able to play ball without having to do farm chores or listen to her parents' nagging made it all worthwhile. She was a Peach, a Rockford Peach, and she didn't care about much else.

Kit woke the night after the team's first game against the South Bend Blue Socks, sweating and unable to get back to sleep. She was having nightmares about being on the mound and freezing, just staring at the batter completely blank, while her sister yelled from behind the plate, telling her how worthless and ugly she was. She hoped that a drink of warm milk would make her drowsy enough to slip back into sleep before Betty woke her up like she always did, bright and early, with a sing-songy "rise and shine."

Looking back, she wasn't sure what made her break from the straight line to the kitchen, what made her stop and watch and wait. As she padded down the hall towards the stairs, she noticed that May and Doris' door wasn't shut like the rest of the girls'. She should have kept walking but instead took a step closer, hearing murmurs that sounded like the crash of waves off the coast of Newport slipping carelessly out into the hall. She stopped and looked around for signs of Miss Cuthbert, then pressed her face against the doorframe, letting her nose touch the sharp corner of the wooden door. She squinted until her eyes adjusted to the dark; she could barely make out two bodies stretched along the bed. She could see May, her knees stretching over the edge of each side of her tiny single bed, head thrown back, body propped up against her pillows. The other person was buried between May's legs, covered by a blanket and sheet, only a patch of brown hair emerging from the top. Kit's first reaction was that May had managed to smuggle in the guy she'd been eyeing in the stands during the last game. But as she looked more closely, she recognized the shoulder-length hair and those round cheeks; it was Doris.

Kit stopped herself from gasping aloud. She wanted to run back to her room and pretend she hadn't seen anything, pretend she didn't know more than she should have about Doris and May. But she couldn't stop herself from looking, from watching. May's whimpers turned to moans and Kit was awestruck, her mouth hanging slightly open as she watched May begin to buck and thrash and lift herself off the bed. And just as Kit was sure that neither she nor May could take any more, May opened her eyes and looked directly at the door. Kit held her breath, unsure if leaving would make matters worse or if she should just keep still, like a buck in the woods hoping he wouldn't be noticed behind the brush. May continued to moan, keeping her eyes focused in Kit's direction. Kit felt hot, warm tickles down her back and between her thighs; her cotton nightgown was suddenly too heavy and the hallway's air too thick. She thought she might faint. May clenched her jaw and tightened her muscles, then let out a powerful roar as she thrust up wildly, keeping her gaze locked on Kit the entire time. Kit could even swear she saw May crack a wicked grin just for her.

Kit walked straight back to her room without getting a drink of milk and without looking back. She laid in her bed, replaying what she had seen, until the light crept through the curtains and she pretended to be asleep so that Betty Spaghetti could commence with their morning routine.

 

 

 

4.

Three walks and only one strike; Kit figured she must really be tired. She adjusted her hat and concentrated on the player at the plate: centerfielder from Racine, only ninth in the lineup. The girl was young, probably her age, but with a very different figure: long brown hair pulled behind her neck in a loose bun, broad hips, and an hourglass figure. She found herself staring and hoped that the look on her face passed for a cross between exhaustion and concentration, rather than whatever had compelled her to stare. She wasn't exactly sure what she was thinking, but she knew she'd better try harder to concentrate or Dottie would never let her hear the end of it.

 

 

 

5.

Within ten minutes of arriving at the Suds Bucket, he had slid into the chair next to her, introduced himself, and offered to buy her a drink. He was a young guy, with brown hair that nearly fell into his eyes and a farm boy's gentle smile. Every time she looked away, he slipped in and kissed her cheek, making her blush and panic like it was her first kiss all over again. His name was Chip, and when he told her she was beautiful she really thought he meant it.

"I--I got my truck parked outside--" he murmured as his cheeks turned a hot shade of pink.

Kit was blushing again too, but for an entirely different reason. She'd had just enough beer, just enough kisses, and just enough whispered compliments to make her consider going with him. In fact, she might have let him slip his rough fingers underneath the fabric of her knickers if Dottie hadn't come along again to ruin all her fun.

 

 

 

6.

"Boys really like this on your fingers?" Kit's eyes were wide, focused on the nuances of May's expression.

"Works for me," May responded with a grin, painting a long stroke of red down the middle of Kit's left index finger. Her skin seemed to hum where it connected with May's, and she wondered how it was possible to feel both shivery and warm at the same time.

"Your sister's not going to be mad, is she?" May lifted her head to meet Kit's stare.

"I don't care," Kit declared, defiant. She desperately wanted May to see her as independent, as someone who was just as daring and bold and worthy of her time.

"You know what, Kit? You're a pretty gutsy kid."

"Thanks," Kit blushed, then added, "but I'm not a kid."

"I know you're not, Kit. I know." May shifted her position to get a better angle for painting the remaining finger, letting her leg creep forward and brush with Kit's knee.

When May had finished, she stopped and held Kit's hand, examining her handiwork, before she casually mentioned, "I saw you, you know."

Kit's heart pushed further up into her chest and she swore she held her breath for what seemed like an eternity.

"I saw you watching me and Doris the other night."

"I--I didn't mean--" Kit began to protest quietly, but May interrupted.

"It's ok. It's ok. Ya haven't told anyone though, right?"

"Oh, no. _No_ ," Kit insisted.

"Not that it's a secret, just, well, it's not good for the team to know. Or Jimmy. Right?"

Kit nodded.

"How much did you see?"

Kit's face turned the color of her freshly-painted nails.

"From the shade of your face, I'm guessin' you saw enough." May's smile was sweet and unassuming, a look somewhat foreign to her face.

"You know," she continued, "if you wanna ask me any questions or wanna talk about anything--"

This time Kit interrupted. "Are you--" she couldn't finish. Lucky for her, she didn't have to.

"What--queer?" A grin spread across May's face. "Naw. I like men." She paused, then added, "I _really_ like men." Her hands involuntarily slipped over her body, one wrapping around her waist and the other slipping between her breasts, fingers fanning out to form a bridge between her two exposed collarbones.

"Then why--" Kit dropped her head down and pretended to examine her nails.

"was I with Doris?" May offered as Kit exhaled, then lifted her head again to signify a voiceless yes.

"I can't really explain except it feels good. Really good. We trust each other and we've known each other for a long time. And besides, Doris can't knock me up." It seemed as though May threw the joke in as an afterthought, but Kit couldn't help but relax a little and crack a smile.

"Do you do it a lot?" She was growing bolder by the minute.

"Every once in a while."

"Do you touch her back?" Kit found herself wanting to know everything about how this worked.

"No. Not that I'm against it, just that I never have."

"Why does Doris do it then?"

"I dunno. Maybe she's queer. Then again, maybe she's not. Maybe she just wants me to like her, to keep being her friend. I never asked her."

"Oh." Kit suddenly felt foolish for asking so many personal questions.

"You ever been with someone, Kit?" May shifted the conversation intentionally, leaning in closer for Kit's response.

"I used to have a boyfriend, back in Williamette."

"Did he ever touch you?" May's voice lowered and hushed to just above a whisper, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

"We held hands all the time, if that's what you mean."

"But I mean, did he--" May nonchalantly slid a smooth palm over Kit's thigh and inched it towards the place where her jumper dipped between her legs, "ever touch you here?"

Kit jerked involuntarily and then laughed an uncomfortable snicker. "No, never." She turned and crossed her legs.

May mentioned something about needing to give Shirley another reading lesson and instantly Kit chastised herself for being so rude. She wanted May to like her, to like her a lot, and she hoped she hadn't ruined it all by being so hopelessly afraid.

 

 

 

7.

"You shouldn't be hangin' around with her." Dottie's lips were tight, her stare impenetrable.

"With who?" Kit feigned innocence.

"Who do you think I'm talkin' about? May." Dottie's hands moved to her hips.

"Well, why not?"

"She's a---" Dottie paused, searching for a more polite way of saying what she wanted to say, "a bad influence."

"She's my friend." Kit was adamant. "You're just upset that someone likes me more than they like you!"

"Kit--- that's not true."

"Then _why_? Give me a good reason." Kit wanted her to say it, to say out loud that May was loose, a trollop, and that Dottie didn't want Kit to become a trollop, too.

Dottie opened her mouth to respond several times but only ended up huffing, her arms folded tightly across her chest, while Kit reveled in her tiny victory.

 

 

 

 

 

8.

"What's the matter, Kit? Too big to finish your own games now?" Doris laughed and snorted, tossing her hair as she left the insult in the dugout and headed back towards the field.

Kit didn't even realize that her hand had left her side, flinging her mitt directly at Doris' head, until the mitt was already in midair.

Doris sucked in an indignant breath and retaliated, throwing a cold cup of water in Kit's face. The next thing Kit knew she had lunged off the bench, her fingernails digging deep into her palms, hurling herself towards Doris with teeth clenched and arms flexed.

"Don't you start with me, Kit! Don't start!" Doris tried to walk away but all Kit could see was heat, a fire, boiling, anger. She didn't care what happened to her; she wanted to hit Doris and hit her hard. She jumped on Doris' back and pulled her to the ground, attacking her with every bit of strength she had left. Doris screamed a shrill screech, rolling the two of them left and then right as she tried to escape, while Kit held on for dear life. The rest of the team circled around and tried to break up the fight, and somewhere over her left shoulder Kit thought she heard May gasping, "Get _your_ sister off of her!" That should have stopped her, should have hurt her more than it did, but it only made her madder as Doris grinned and Kit pulled harder on the other girl's hair.

Only when Jimmy had shoved her into the cold shower did Kit really start to cry.

 

 

 

 

 

9.

"Where is she? Where - _is_ \- she - Doris?" Kit growled, a rush of anger flooding back to her.

"She went out."

"Where?"

"On a date."

" _Where_?" She forced the words through her teeth, heaving with shock and betrayal.

Doris looked at her dryly. "The same place she always goes."

Kit bribed the bus driver to wait for her back at the team's house while she hitched a ride to the bar. She found May in her usual corner booth, lips locked with a strange man whose hands had crept up under the hem of her tight-fitting dress.

"May," she half-spoke, half-shouted the name as she crossed the dance floor with long, quick steps.

"May---" This time she nearly shouted, though she was only a few yards away. "May!" And finally May's head turned, catching a red-faced Kit out of breath, waiting at the edge of the table.

"What the hell are you doin' here, Kid?"

"I---" She couldn't breathe, or speak, so she just began to cry. Wet streaks slid easily from her eyes as she just gripped the fabric at her sides and cried, staring at May and her date with wide, pleading eyes.

May leaned in to whisper something in the man's ear. He started to protest, but she held a finger to his lips and mouthed "later" as she slid out of the booth.

"Come with me," May told her, and led Kit out the back door of the club into a dimly lit alley.

"I've been--- _traded_ \--- Racine---" Kit managed between sobs.

"What?"

"Racine--- Dottie--- had me traded---" Kit's eyes were already red and swollen.

"Com'ere," May pulled at Kit's top and brought her closer to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Atleast you're still in the league, you know?" she offered in a half-whisper, and Kit let the sentence roll around in her head. She didn't know what to say so she said nothing, letting another tear slip over the top of her cheek and down to her chin before May scooped it up to wipe what was left on the back of her dress.

"Kit, listen, you're a swell pitcher, and if Jimmy can't see that--- well--- then he has more problems than a fifth-a-day habit." When Kit failed to smile, May grabbed her by the chin and forced Kit to look her in the face. "I mean it. Don't let your sister get in the way of your dreams. You need to do what's gonna make you happy, and even if you get stuck someplace you don't wanna be, you gotta make the best of it and show `em what you're made of, really stick it to `em, you know?" For some reason, the pep-talk coming from May sounded so different than the similar sentiments Betty Spaghetti voiced from the other side of her bedroom door earlier in the evening.

"But I'll be away from all you girls, playing _against_ you---"

"You'll find a way to make it; I know you will." Kit's chin was still caught between May's fingers and all this time Kit had never thought to move. Even when May leaned in, moving slower than cows in heat, and pressed their lips together, slid their lips open and crept inside, Kit never pulled away. Maybe she was braver than she thought.

 


End file.
